Men: What are they good for?
Absolutely nothing.

Except maybe lawn care and vehicle maintenance. Since I have neither, they are worse than useless. Not only do they not serve a function, but I end up wasting useful time that I could be, you know, learning what the word caulk means instead of running around like a lunatic to show up for a date with a married man.

"What?" you say. "Married? Who knew?How would the lovely Bunni waste so much of her valuable free time on a married man?Especially since she is so cynical."

Right. Cynical. Like Polly fuckin' Anna I am. No matter how many times I've been around the block-lied to, misled, betrayed, abused, insulted, my cynicism is really a defense against my natural good natured belief in people. Otherwise how do you explain what happened?

Derek slipped me his email last Friday. He is good looking-although he took his chances with that pink polo shirt. Initially, what with the nice arm definition and the tattoos I thought he was gay. Nope, because he flirted with me so much the stalker was bitter. He had to work the next day and so he slipped me his email before he left. I sent him an email thinking it couldn't hurt. We emailed back and forth and he asked me out for Friday. Well couldn't go because of fangoria so we agreed to tonight. This was before I realized how much more time I would need for the pocketbook and everything else.

So after running around like a decapitated loon all day, I got ready for my "date."I was excited because you know a seemingly normal person was expressing relatively normal interest in me.

These things do not happen.

I am the type of person who is wooed by alligator owners not young lawyers.

About an hour before I met the date in question, I discovered that the drain in the shower was amazingly clogged. There was no way I could take a shower. But I had been cleaning stuff all day. I was disgustingly sweaty. I had to wash. So I put towels on the floor and turned on the shower and stuck my head and body into the water when needed and washed myself off.

Afterwards I got dressed, black top and jeans and realized I've gained way too much weight back. Have to return to the starvation diet soon.

Show up for my date and notice about half way through our conversation that he was wearing goddamned wedding ring.

Why, God, Why?

It's not like I wanted to elope, but it would be nice, you know, nice to have a guy actually want me for something a little more serious than a unbridled sex. Do men desire me? Absolutely. These last two weeks it's been like someone dumped water buffalo hormones in the city's water supply. Men want to remove my clothes with their teeth. But then, I've never had a shortage of men who want to sleep with me, but I want someone who will snuggle with me on the couch. And you know the married guys are rarely up for that.

So he walked me home and SHOOK MY HAND. He asked me out for next week. I gave him the cheerleader thing. "Oh yeah sure," bounced up the stairs.

It's at moments like this that inspired the line that made me famous in the office:

You know, when I say that I hate all men, I don't mean all men, I just mean every one I ever met.

Lust for Life
Or rather getting my ass kicked by it. Tomorrow I leave for the Fangoria Weekend of Horrors, which promises to be significantly more pleasant than Thanksgiving with my relatives. Unfortunately, this week has been kicking my ass hardcore. HARDCORE. Last night, I stayed up until 3 AM fereverishly trying to finish crocheting the shoulder strap to the cthulhu pocketbook. It's still not done. Nor is the front. Or the wings. Or the tentacles. And it's supposed to be done by Saturday morning! I still haven't picked up a new card for my camera phone. And I have to go to the yarn barn to get more yarn.

Today my personal organizer came and we worked for four and half hours. If it wasn't for that I would be closer to being done with the Cthulhu. Half the place looks like it was hit by a blizzard. The other half looks good, but of course things are in "trial positions." I like the new layout although I think I'll be putting some furniture into storage. I really should have hired this guy five years ago. The place feels different. Much easier for me to deal with. Well the stuff not piled on the couch or on the floor.

Feel like I've been hit by a bus though. My organizer although he may be revolted by my lax cleaning attitude, loves the stuff I have. He is fascinated by all the little wierd things, like my little stuffed gargoyle that roars! He likes my sense of play. Well who wouldn't?

Tomorrow have to get up early to double check on the packing thing, run to the yarn barn, run to best buy-jump into a car and then head for NJ. You should see how much shit I am taking-if I was going to paris all I would bring is some deoderant in a paper bag (well now that's pretty much all I could bring anyway) to go to NJ I have a huge bag of candy, DVDs, books, yarn, make up, killer bunni slippers, etc. I'll be bringing my laptop and hopefully they will have wifi so I'll be able to check in and let you know how things are going. Probably a lot of "Holy crap Ron Perelman is licking on of pumpkin lollies! That's so hot!"

I would be a little less worried about tomorrow if it wasn't for the fact I have a date with a cute lawyer tonight in about half an hour and I still don't know what to wear. In fact, I have to go throw myself in the shower now.

Anyone Thinking About Writing Comedy Should Work at NYU
So yesterday the floor manager at the office where I USED TO work called to tell me that he packaged the rest of the stuff in my desk and sent it me. I'm sure he thought he was doing me a favor rather than having me schlep two boxes of books uptown. "Oh," I said, "I wish you had called before you sent it because I would have shipped it to my mom's place in upstate. That's where most of that stuff will end up anyway." "Oh really? Won't the post office deliver two boxes?" "I don't have a door man." "Well do you have a luggage carrier?"

Do I have a luggage carrier?

No. But luckily I do have some burly male friends who like nothing better than showing off their upper body strength and I live close to the post office.

Today I got home after doing massive candy safari for the Fangoria Weekend of Horrors (I now have marshmallow pumpkins, black cats and ghosts, gummy brains, pumpkin lollies, gummy worms and brains, gourmet candy corn, well and lots of other stuff) and discovered an envelope in my mailbox from NYU addressed to Prof. Speigelman. Inside it announced that I was eligible for health insurance thanks to the union contract! I can't get anyone on the phone who knows who I should speak to about back pay, but now I have health insurance? Man, I'm gonna call tomorrow and see if I can get it. Make the assbackwards morons pay for a physical after all these years!

Now go read about the alligators (see post below).

Is that an alligator in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?
So last night a very sweet British fellow who up until last night has always been too shy be anything but a gentleman called and asked if I would join him for a drink. He's rather a sensitive sort, and I knew it took a lot of guts for him to call me because, well, he's shy. I've known him now for maybe two years.

So I show up, we start talking. He has a house in PA that he is trying to sell. He thinks it will take a while because he has two alligators.

I said, "You have two alligators?"

"Well, my sons wanted them. They're just babies. You know only about three feet long. You can have them in PA. They're legal."

I continue to sit in silent shock.

"They're friendly, you know. They'll put their heads on your lap because of the warmth."

"They're in the house?"

"Well it's too cold for them outside."

This guy is living with two, not one, two alligators.

"Yeah, but I have to get rid of them you know. I think I'll put them in the car and drive them down to Florida and let them go."

"If you do that, you better take pictures, but I'll damned if I take the trip with you."

Later in the night my would-be stalker showed up and was being all creepy and stalkerish. The alligator owner isn't a small guy. Although he is shy with women, I know he acts like a "regular guy" around the boys. I told him what was up and he said, "Oh don't worry about him, I can take care of it." So we continued chatting.

Finally I was exhausted. The alligator owner started to walk me home when I noticed my stalker was following us. I told him, and he said, "You go ahead and walk home. I'll take care of this." I walked home (I was only half a block away). I waited a while and called alli on his cellphone to make sure everything was OK. "Oh yeah, he won't bother you anymore." "I don't care about that. Are YOU alright?" "Oh sure, now get some sleep."

I only hope he didn't feed him to the alligators.

Some of you may remember the fracas over this post about two months back. I decided not to return to the bar in question for at least two months before the comments field debacle occurred. Once that hit, I decided to cut myself off from that crowd for a while for a variety of reasons. I was incredibly angry and instead of making a bad situation worse by antagonizing people who already seemed to think they had been antagonized, I thought well better stay away from them while they are angry and vice versa.

Now out of that group only person reached out to my via email. I didn't return her emails, which was wrong of me, but she is a part of the group that I was avoiding.

Why am I avoiding an entire group when only three people are really involved in the conflict?

Because before I even wrote a response about what happened on the blog, I was accosted by someone who knew nothing of the situation, hadn't read the post, had only been told what had happened, about why I would do something like that. He was already puffed with self righteousness, but not any actually first hand information although it certainly would have been easy enough to actually come here and read the post. And I didn't really feel like having to go through that conversation again and again, which was sure to happen. I also didn't want to have to deal with the "don't blog this, don't blog that" stipulations that were sure to come up.

I make no promises to anyone about what appears here. I have tried to protect people as best I can, but at the end of the day the blog wins. All three people involved in the conversation knew about the blog. They knew the type of information that I posted. Only one of them had objected to information posted here before, and by the time I found out about it, it was too late to do damage control. Not one of them bothered to actually send an email, text, or voicemail asking me to take down the post. They simply attacked me in my own comments field. When I removed the comments for a variety of reasons including the unwarranted attack on my readers and made it clear that I would discuss what happened in other more appropriate forums, I received no response. So I simply removed myself from the equation. I didn't write any further about the topic, except for one post reiterating my position on what I write here and my attitude towards the demand of others.

Since then I have written nothing more about the matter. When I've seen people from that circle at other places, I've been cordial smiling and waving. I haven't mentioned what happened. In fact, part of the reason I withdrew from the social scene was so that people wouldn't have to face a "Whose side are you on?" type of dilemma. For all of their moral grandstanding about not judging unless you are directly involved in the situation in question (which, incidentally, is a specious argument-I mean if we accepted it the legal system would go down the tubes- what else do juries do except make decisions about incidents to which they have not personally witnessed?) two people who were no way directly involved in the incident, who haven't been written about here, or ever come to read this blog have decided that because of my behavior I should be treated as dead. Two people who used to great me with hugs and kisses have now walked past me as if I wasn't there.

One of the people who ignored me today I always thought of as a very decent guy. He used to think I was the salt of earth now apparently I am just a pile of it.

Sure, it hurts. But on the other hand, I thought more of him than that.

So how broken up do I feel about losing an entire social system?

Well it's like I tell my students, former students, learning is often a painful process. We are forced to abandon things, beliefs, people, attitudes, desires, sometimes very enjoyable, but in the long term a necessary loss in order to be ready for better things.

How I Know When A Man is Lying
Well generally it's because his mouth is moving.

Cue rimshot.

Well this week has been all about the universe saying "OK so you're 31 you are still an Internationally Acclaimed Piece of Ass. Don't you forget it!"

Tonight, a guy who has been wanting me for quite sometime finally realized he had a pair and talked to me. Of course, he said a couple of things that generally I have found to be complete and utter bullshit.

I'm an honest guy...

Generally, what this statement really means is, "I'm going to use this as an excuse to say really painful awful things to you whenever I feel like it. When you suggest that A there is a way of phrasing things and B that I should be sensitive to when I choose to deliver these awesome nuggets of Objective Truth-I'll say 'I told you I was an honest guy.' What it really means is that I'm too much of a lazy bastard to lie or even rephrase things to protect anything, but my own flabby ass. When you find out exactly how much I've been lying to protect sed ass, I'll say, 'Well I meant it at the time.'"

I just want a relationship no strings attached, but whenever I say that to a woman she ends up falling in love with me.

I got two words for that-you wish.

Although it does happen, usually it is a case of guy saying he doesn't want anything more, but acting ambivalently because he knows that if he really acted like it was just sex after about two weeks the girl would move onto some other guy who might fall for her. To keep her on the hook for sex, but not more-he begins a series of highly orchestrated moves to make her think "Maybe" but not so much he'll be caught out as an outright playa.

I've had some great sex, but there is never sex so good that I mistook it for love.

Nope not once. I have on the other hand been suckered into thinking that a sexual relationship was progressing to a more meaningful connection.

I'm getting a divorce or I'm breaking up with my girlfriend

What with marriage statistics being what they are, some of the time this has to be the case, but more often than not it's a married man's way of trying to appear available, when he isn't in any way. Usually when you press for details though you find out, his wife just asked for a divorce and they are getting papers. Or they talked about it and agreed to get a divorce.

One guy who told me he was breaking up with his girlfriend, when pressed for the details said, "Well we are living together, and we both know it's over but we haven't actually aknowledged that yet."

Um, yeah. Let me know how that works out for you.

Here's another thing that womena just fall for all wrong. When a man says he is getting divorced, a lot of women think this is the time to swoop in a grab a good husband while he's all emotionally kerfuffled. In reality, it's a trap for women to sucker them into a dalliance.

Anyone want to help add onto my list? Boys, don't be shy-tell us what women say that generally is completely and utterly false. (I like you as a friend. I just want a guy with a good personality, I don't care what he looks like.)

    This page is powered by 
Blogger. Isn't yours?